


Jugular

by Kaiosea



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sex, Sibling Rivalry, potential sibling incest, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:18:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiosea/pseuds/Kaiosea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you thinking about?”</p><p>“Eren,” Levi said.</p><p>Mikasa rolled onto her back, stretching her arms above her head. She was flushed from the waist up. “Me too.”</p><p>Levi might have been a family-less only child, but he still knew that traditionally, siblings didn’t rut up against each other like animals in night-drenched hallways or single-spaced beds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nemesis

**Author's Note:**

> semi-spoilers for chapter 56

Levi whirled and grabbed Connie by the collar of his shirt. “What did you say about me, prick?"

He almost relished the sideswept, fearful glance Connie gave him as he lied, “Nothing, sir.”

“I heard you say my name.” He’d come into the mess hall for a simple, crap dinner, after an awful day of watching Eren Yeager, teenage savior that he was, fail to complete any Titan tests. He’d been greeted by a flurry of eyes scrutinizing him and that fool Connie yammering at the edge of a table, likely spreading some nasty rumor.

Connie attempted to unsuccessfully wipe his fear from his face, but he said mum.

In the otherwise deathly silence, a fork clanked against an empty plate, and a soft gulping of food was heard. Mikasa’s palms hit the table when she stood. Wordlessly, she picked up her tray and left the hall.

Levi burned. None of his other soldiers would have dared to leave without being excused, but Mikasa had been getting cocky lately, even if no one else saw it. Hanji had unwisely told her she was worth “at least 200 soldiers now” and she was acing all assigned skills, tests, and missions without breaking a sweat.

That didn’t give her the right to disrespect him like that, but he’d deal with that later.

Whispers circulated the room like wildfire, but the only snippets that reached him were “Levi” “Mikasa” and “Look, their expressions are the same.”

He pulled at Connie’s collar, but the enjoyment of terrifying another person had left the room with the flounce of Mikasa’s hair. He didn’t care to raise his voice over something inconsequential, and it wouldn’t do to get a reputation (well, more of a reputation) for senseless violence. He knocked Connie to the ground, left fuming and went to bed hungry. He had no idea what godforsaken fever had claimed these shitstains.

He took it out on Eren the next time he found him alone.

“Kneel,” he told him. Eren’s bones crunched pleasantly under the soles of his feet as he reached onto a higher shelf for a properly bristled brush.

Eren gasped and muffled himself, and Levi replayed the sound like a broken record in the shower.

He learned the rumor soon enough, but not who started it, so he put the most likely culprits on cleaning duty for a month. They were getting too friendly with him anyways.

As for the rumor itself, he brought it to the expert to debunk.

 

*

 

“Is it not plausible?” Hanji said. “The only thing you know about your family, is that everything you know is a lie.”

“I don’t look—Asian,” Levi pointed out what seemed obvious to him.

“You did inherit dark, straight hair and dark eyes, not unlike Mikasa, who is may I remind you, half. You might not even be related on that side.”

“If, if we are related. Get shit straight.”

Hanji spoke loudly, even around an uncomfortably full mouth of food, “You’re probably half-siblings at most. Would it be that bad?”

“I don’t need long-lost family drooping all over me like an abused mutt.”

“And… you think that would happen.” Hanji was the most transparent person he knew, and the unconcealed strains of remorse in the tone made him cranky.

“Yeah, probably,” he said derisively.

“Those are all statements that are obviously untrue, and you know it, but please continue to say them if it makes you feel better!” Hanji wasn’t even being sarcastic, that was the sad part.

“You have tomato on your shirt.”

Hanji didn’t rise to the bait and dropped the next information bombshell too casually to be unplanned. “Well, she’s certainly as attractive as you.”

He responded automatically. “Now I’m offended.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Hanji’s eyebrows waggled like a true pervert’s.

He wasn’t really offended, though. While he preferred Eren’s enthusiasm and boyishness to Mikasa’s almost robotic, expressionless void, she was still tall, deadly, and reasonably pretty. If he were a decade or so younger, or a mite less careful, he might have thrown hell to the winds and pursued both of the genetically blessed siblings at once.

The lighthearted comparison to Mikasa only bothered him so much as it was untrue. The similarities between them started and ended at their hair.

 

*

 

Hanji’s dumb comment inspired him to take a second look—not something that he did often at all, and he blamed it on sheer persistence.

But it wasn't until Mikasa sucker-punched him as he exited the toilet that he realized her face was capable of morphing into an expression that wasn’t cultivated boredom.

Not that he relished her surprised triumph as she looked down at him any better.

His jaw throbbed. He didn’t blink or wind up before throwing the hardest uppercut he could. His punch had a lot more force than hers, though he knew she was capable of more. She recoiled but didn’t attempt to dodge.

“That’s fine,” she winced, not lifting her hands to her pained cheek like a normal person would. “I just wanted to land a hit.”

He hissed, “Clearly, and you chose me for what deluded reason?”

“You deserved it,” she said. “For what you did to Eren, the other day.”

Levi blinked multiple times before understanding. The thing with Eren hadn’t even registered as a problem on his radar. “Footstool? You’re overreacting. His bruises heal. Mine don’t.”

“It was obviously unnecessary. And neither will mine.”

“Stupid, fucking children—”

“I’m not a child. What’s my punishment?” She unwound her scarf from her long, pale neck and patiently re-wound it. Her slim, careful fingers didn’t seem like the type to punch people out for no reason or to wield broadswords as easily as utensils. She still hadn’t touched the purple stain blooming on her cheek.

Levi had the urge to strangle her with the flimsy material of the scarf. It looked cheap and inefficient for keeping warm, and it likely slowed her down aerodynamically, so he didn’t know why she wore it.

“Give that here.”

“Why?”

“I would think that was obvious," he mimicked. 

Slowly, as if it required great effort, she unwrapped it from her neck and deposited it in his hand. “How long are you going to keep it?” Finally, a waver in her voice.

“Until I heal, or you stop pissing me off, whichever comes second.”

Mikasa snorted—yet another expression he’d never observed before—and stalked off.

Too curious to resist, he raised the scarf to his nose despite himself and sniffed. It smelled perfume-like, but almost stale, like she never washed it, and he flung it into an unused desk drawer with disgust.

 

*

 

His eyes lingered on her in the training fields. She dismembered the usual courses with time to spare, leaping from each obstacle to the next on quick, sure feet. She wielded the broadswords like they were made of air, or like wings extending from her body. The youngest recruits stared when she stepped up and took a collective inhale.

So she had promise, didn’t mean he wanted to work with her. She planted herself directly in his way when he helped others, and if his focus wasn't impeccable he would have been distracted. Then when he worked one-on-one with her, she harrumphed and did her best to injure him. She took every criticism to heart with a glare like daggers. It was like she didn’t believe he could teach her how to improve.

But the other Survey Corps members who trained her said she was respectful, fast-learning, exceptionally talented, and overall a delight. Erwin hinted towards giving her a larger role in their next mission. Levi could not help but wonder what deluded maladies Erwin was currently suffering from.

Some of the others had started calling her “the second Levi,” but only when they thought neither of them was within earshot. She must have hated the nickname as much as he did, because she started punching the wooden blocks twice as hard.

Levi gritted his teeth and said nothing when she continually brushed up against him. Today, she wore shorts that exposed her pale legs. Her thighs flexed with long cords of muscle. Typically, people didn’t expose skin in hand-to-hand combat, since clothes offered extra, if flimsy, protection, but Mikasa was bold where others were careful.

In another way, it wasn't bold at all. Levi supposed that no one had successfully hit her in weeks. The mottled purple littering the side of her face was fading, but had yet to disappear, and it was the only visible blemish on her.

He was offended that no one had asked him if he’d done it, but his matching traces of bruising were probably answer enough.

 

*

 

The perplexing coincidence of their last names nagged at him, resembling something like a conscience, so Levi decided to confront Mikasa and get some real answers. Maybe he could soothe Hanji's peace of mind and settle the inconsequential question once and for all. 

“Have you heard the rumors?”

“You think I’m a shit-talker like everyone else.” She said abruptly, not even ending her accusation with an upwards tone, as a question. Now why had he decided to do this again? Some misguided attempt to do someone a favor.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again, but for now he was stuck in this muckhole of a conversation.

“This is literally just to give you more information. Could be useful.”

“Is this strictly related to my military duties, then?” Her chin jutted out, her arms folded.

He bit back a scowl. That did it. He pulled out a proper lie, one he hoped to shock her with, and dropped his air of aloofness.

“Mikasa, I’m your fucking dad.”

“What?” She crouched into a preemptive fighting stance, as if afraid that saying him nonsensical things was the first step on the road to another brawl.

Levi sneered. “Got you. No, I assume we share bloodlines, though.” He briefly explained his reasoning as clinically as possible. She listened to him with that aggravating stare, looking right through him.

“Creep,” she muttered. “This isn’t a favor. I don’t appreciate you telling me things I know.”

“We could be related, don't tell me you fucking knew that.”

“And so what.”

“So it’s a maybe, and I'm waiting for you to prove everything wrong.” He wanted her to give evidence that the rumor was wrong, say that her family's whereabouts had been tracked for generations.

“I can’t. We weren't the sort that kept records. And I know everyone lies. I'm not dumb enough to defend my parents to you," she recited in a flat voice, as if she'd expected this somehow. 

“Are you telling me you fall for this ridiculous horseshit?” Sorely disappointed by her lack of information and lack of reaction, he kicked at a dirty spot on the floor, as a reminder to clean it later. He didn't need her on his heels, or traipsing around under the same surname as him, now that his had been revealed to the public. She had to be nothing like his family, and nothing to him.

She tapped her foot and hummed the kind of innocent ditty that adults sang to babies. Levi gritted his teeth, considered any other angles he could use to get a rise out of her. Anything to wipe the unconcerned hostility off her face.

“By the way, how’s your friend?” He didn't need to exert himself to sound threatening. 

“Armin?” She stopped humming. 

“Eren.”

“He’s not a friend.”

“Boyfriend, then.”

She shrugged and nestled a hand on her hip. With her jacket pulled away from her body, his eyes followed the curve of her waist. “He’s family. You wouldn’t understand.”

He rolled his eyes. "Dismissed."

She turned away and started up the same tune again, now with words. The melody sounded breathy and lovely, utterly unlike her, but he forgot the sound as soon as she was out of eyesight. 

 

*

 

Past midnight, some fuckers were causing such a ruckus in the halls that he grabbed a knife and pressed his ear to his door, preparing to recoil in disgust at a typical nighttime tryst.

Instead, he was greeted by Eren’s bratty voice moaning like—well, like a teenager who’d never been touched before in his life, which was probably the case. Of course it was Eren, the one he found the most attractive and the most annoying, though Mikasa was rapidly scaling the ranks of the latter category.

He wondered who Eren was with, if it was the smart best friend with limpid eyes, or the outspoken boy with the long but handsome face, or the gorgeous short girl that Hanji favored. He guessed someone who looked like Eren would normally have no trouble finding partners, except for the deterrent of a personality.

Eren yelled again, and Levi felt himself swelling in his underwear, imaging Eren’s expressive face contorted in bliss, how his legs would buckle at the knees. He annoyedly palmed himself into a more comfortable position.

“Sorry, sorry, I can’t do this.” That was Eren.

Breath held, Levi waited for the other person to talk.

“Just tonight.” Fuck, that was the last person he had expected to snuggle up with Eren. His blood ran cold when he realized it was Mikasa out there.

He’s family, she had told him.

Levi may have grown up a fucked up and family-less only child, but he still knew that traditionally, siblings didn’t rut up against each other like animals in night-drenched hallways.

“Levi will hear,” Eren said.

 _Damn right I will._ He pressed his ear harder into the door, lines of uneven woodgrain digging into his neck, and held his breath. He was curious about who was grabbing whom, and whose lips were more aggressive, but the noises briefly stopped. 

In a slow voice, Mikasa said, “I think he’s a heavy sleeper.”

Levi’s heart throbbed to a steady beat. No one with any sense would think of him as anything other than a sleep-deprived bastard who woke at the sound of a lone bird chirping.

The probable explanation was that she meant him to hear, or she didn't mind if he did. Against his better sense of duty, he found the thought exciting. 

“Shit, don’t go up to his room, what are you fucking thinking?” There was panic in Eren’s voice.

Levi had the strange feeling that Mikasa's ear was now embossed to the other side of the door he was presently attached to. Their hypothetical proximity made him wonder if her pupils were blown wide with lust, if she liked to wear loose-fitting shorts that displayed her thighs when she set out to break taboos. 

“There’s no noise,” she said. Yes, she was definitely leaning on the other side. 

“If you say so…"

“Right,” he barely heard her say as her voice receded. There were more subdued kissing noises and a broken groan.

“Mikasa, I can’t anymore.”

He heard the unmistable sound of a fist hitting the wall, followed by light footsteps running away. He didn’t dare peek to see who remained, but he had his guess.

Whoever it was, they waited a good five minutes before leaving in the opposite direction.

Levi stalked away from the door and relinquished his dream of sleep, hand sinking unwillingly below his waist.


	2. Narcissus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really didn't intend for the update to take so long, but I didn't want to just rush something out for the sake of finishing. thanks for staying with the fic, here is the second and last part.

Of course Erwin’s next great idea was for Levi to personally take over Mikasa’s training. Erwin had announced it over breakfast, so by midday Levi had contacted her to give her a time and place to meet. Levi was nothing if not obedient, and the best form of obedience also prized efficiency. 

Early evening, dark enough they’d find no active Titans, they convened at the highest building in the area, a former church in the abandoned town nearby. 

“I’m supposed to show you how to control your dives better.”

She said nothing. 

“Respond.”

She tilted her face towards him, but she looks straight through his face rather than at him. “I didn’t ask for this.” 

Most ordinary people would grovel at his feet for the chance to learn from him, and though he hated them, he was getting equally tired of pointless obstinance.

“Doesn’t matter. Watch me,” Levi said, and he dove off. 

Air going up his nose was the worst feeling, and he never relished the dry mouth and teary eyes that followed long dives, but duty was duty. As he approached the ground, he instinctively counted down to the time of impact, shooting his hooks back up to the top of the building and expertly flipping the gas only a few inches from the ground. 

The ensuing jerk hurt pretty fucking badly, yanking especially on the straps covering his chest, but he made it up in record time. Mikasa turned to acknowledge him with the same bored expression as always.

“So,” Levi said, barely out of breath. “Do you think you can do that? That’s what I’m teaching you today.”

Mikasa strode to the edge of the rooftop and looked down for a long moment. He was about to prod her when she took off in a nosedive, arms by her sides. 

His mind raced. _What the hell?_ Did he need to go down and get her? She was falling too quickly, and the cement blocks could split a skull open just as well as a Titan could, and now her arms suddenly spread out like a bird, slowing her fall, which must have taken a lot of strength given the speed she was going at. From his vantage point he saw her wires coming back towards the top, but they weren’t going to stabilize in time and she was going to hit the ground—But he couldn’t jump now, he would be too late.

Then her figure paused and suddenly came closer, the details of her shape sharpening, and she was rising with the wires, a menace suspended on the wind. 

She pulled herself up to the top, the muscles in her arms overworking, and landed on her heels, but her center of gravity shifted to the balls of her feet and then too far forward so that she pitched and caught herself on her hands. 

He hadn’t thought to try reaching for her. She flipped up and looked at her palms, breathing heavily. 

He inhaled through his nose and started in on the critique, hiding no relief. She was impulsive when it came to Eren, but that had been a different beast entirely. “You have the raw power to pull out of a idiot dive like that, but if you improve precision and focus, you won’t waste as much useless energy on the maneuvers.” 

Levi demonstrated a couple more times until she’d had the chance to observe more, and from there they’d alternate their jumps, Levi correcting her errors after each bout. She was a fast learner, and by the end of the night she’d mastered the maneuver and was starting to put her own spin on it. 

It wasn’t until he blew out the candle in his room late that night that he remembered he should have scolded her for taking off that first time. That had been truly risky, and any danger to Mikasa was a danger to humanity’s survival. 

But what could he say, maybe he had a soft spot for those who dared to attempt flight on their own terms. 

 

*

 

The training continued for weeks, with Mikasa progressing at a level that Erwin compared to Levi’s own original learning pace. Faster possibly, since he’d been mainly self-trained, much to the dismay of his commander at the time. They could never find anyone to keep up with him. 

It was relaxing to watch her. Strange, how she herself seemed more at ease in the air than on the ground. Her lips would part slightly, which he’d discovered by accident when she backed herself into a literal corner once and got stuck, mouth hanging open, until she found a way to untangle herself. He hadn’t needed to help her then, either. 

Her body’s command of the air was supreme, but her control over herself even more. There was only so much clothes could do to hide the muscles nestled inside, and watching her thighs clench on landings had become his guilty pleasure. He wondered briefly if this was how other people felt about him, if his body was prized by anyone, and discarded that thought as asinine. 

Erwin stopped by their session, wearing the most infuriatingly unreadable expression. Recently, Levi got the sense Erwin was laughing at him more lately, even when there was naught a smile to be found on his broad face. 

“It’s going better than planned, then,” Erwin commented. 

“Training, yeah. Don’t tell me you didn’t expect it.”

Annoying, Erwin only nodded. “When will she be ready for her own squad?”

Levi actually turned to look up at him. “Never thought about that… You serious?” It was impossible to tell if Erwin had been planning this or if he was taking the piss. 

“I’m asking your opinion.”

Levi glanced over at her. Today they were working hand-to-hand combat, and Mikasa was ten lengths away, practicing her turning side-kick over and over. It was difficult to come to a complete stop coming out of a spin and move the force into the attacking leg, but she had improved wildly since they started an hour ago. 

“Physically she was ready weeks ago. Before we trained, maybe before she joined up. In terms of command, I don’t see her personality working for a while. Others don’t exactly love her.”

Erwin shifted his posture back onto his heels. “Is that a necessary feature to lead? For others to like you?”

Levi flashed his teeth and chuckled. Even he could see the question’s trap. “You know it’s not.”

Erwin raised his eyebrows and folded his arms, looking like he’d expected his answer. “In any case, here is my proposal.” 

 

*

 

The lull in action they were experiencing had left them all repeating training exercises; meanwhile, they lacked enough healthy recruits to depart on a full-blown mission, and everyone moved slower as the cold approached. But the news that Levi and Mikasa were going to brawl, at the behest of the commander himself, infiltrated the camp faster than an enemy soldier, energizing collective morale. Violence; now that was something to get excited about. 

After breakfast, which Levi had skipped so there was no risk of vomiting during the fight, Eren bounded over to him, wearing a becoming smile that he attempted to disguise by biting his lip. 

“You’re that excited for a fake fight?” Levi asked.

Eren grinned, those huge green eyes lighting up with mischief. “She’s been acting weird lately. Maybe a fight will clean her up.”

“Backwards logic, typical of you.” Levi directed his words with fondness, rather than true criticism.

Eren just shrugged, and his eyes began to wander off into the distance. He looked really pretty today for some reason, with brushed back hair and a more filled-out uniform. Clean too, maybe he’d used more care when scrubbing than usual. Looking at him, Levi wanted to keep talking longer. 

“Don’t you want to root for your—“ Levi stopped, unsure of what Eren thought of Mikasa as. Should he say sister? Or would that be inappropriate, considering how they liked to kiss at night? “Your family?” 

“Is that why you’re cranky? That doesn’t make a difference.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said under his breath. 

Eren somehow made frowning look attractive. 

“Yeah… Well the way I figure, it’ll be fun to watch no matter who wins.”

Levi grunted, not about to dignify that with a polite response. The longer he talked to Eren, the more agitated he tended to feel. It was hard, having the ability to call up the exact tack of Eren’s belaboured breathing when he was excited. He wondered if they had planned any more nighttime shows outside his room. He turned to get ready.

“Besides, aren’t we all family now?” Eren called after him. 

Levi didn’t know if he meant just him, or if he included all his colleagues in the 104th in his “family”, or all members of the Scouting Legion, or even all of the dead with unmarked invisible graves that they left in the forest. 

Levi didn’t know if Eren expected an answer, but he didn’t have one to give. 

 

*

 

Mikasa clasped her arms above her head and stretched, bending at the waist to the left and right. The sinews of her shoulders pulled and stretched, and she made a face. Probably sore. 

The military crowd formed a circle surrounding them, and the soldiers with the highest rank had their spots staked out at the front. 

The rules were no protective gear, no weapons, no headshots, no excessive injuries. If necessary, the subjective rulings over the word “excessive” went to Hanji, who was jumping up and down as excitedly as Eren from the sidelines.

Even before they shook hands, Levi could feel sweat on his palms, which wasn’t the best sign. Adrenaline was far from the norm for him. 

She looked at him and clenched her jaw. He didn’t know if others could see how rage burned cold inside her; it had taken him several weeks to understand it himself. Her emotions went out through her extreme physicality, not in words. 

He was a little similar, so maybe that was a point for their relation, then. Maybe not. Levi wasn’t exactly familiar with how consanguinity worked. 

“Start!”

They traded punches and blocks. Levi had less technique in this kind of fighting, to be honest, since he’d developed his own style when his bones were still getting set. That also made him harder to block, however. 

The thing about Mikasa was that she never stopped. Missed punches and jabs were nothing to get mad at yourself for, it was only something to leave behind in the past as soon as it happened to prepare for the next attack. 

They locked into the basic stance, taking a short mutual breath. She moved a little before he anticipated her, which wasn’t a problem, he could keep up, but then she quickly entered into a fluid motion that was so familiar it caught him off-guard. 

He could have sworn that he was looking into a mirror, and he hesitated to swing a split-second too late. It wasn’t until he was lying on the ground that he realized she’d been using the exact turning side-kick he’d taught her recently, perfectly copying his unstable form.

The sky shifted its horizon and he found himself with a throbbing pain in his head, kicked out on his back. His ears rang with the noises of invisible bells, but through the haze the murmurs of a crowd reached him. As he pushed himself up with his palms, the whispers stopped. 

It hadn’t been five minutes. 

“How does it feel to be beaten by a girl?” She said it quietly, despite her heaving breaths. 

Mikasa was probably taunting him or joking, even if her face betrayed none of her intent. It didn’t seem like her type of question, but he still answered seriously. “About the same as losing to anyone else.” He spit up blood, barely missing her boots. “So, fucking terrible. But motivating anyways.”

She loomed over him when they were both standing as it was. With him pressed into the filthy ground, she positively towered. It would be easy to disable her; he was quite accustomed to going after things much bigger than she was. Mind operating on instinct, he’d developed fifteen ways to kill her since she knocked him over less than a minute ago, five of which were with his bare hands, but he knew when he was fairly beaten. It was just a game. 

Eren’s voice was the only one left whooping from the sidelines. 

 

*

 

Erwin said, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

Levi was wrapping his leg. He would wait, as always, for Erwin to explain what he meant by the cryptic statement. 

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” Levi said, finishing the wrap. “Back on it in a day.”

“Yes. It’s not what I intended to come out of the event.” Erwin cocked an eyebrow. 

“Obviously,” Levi said, walking his way through Erwin’s meaning. “But you had some other intention?”

“Yes, but I should not have mentioned it.”

That wasn’t an answer, as usual. “That was—You tool. Your way of giving advice?” 

“I want you to be happy,” Erwin said. 

Over time, Levi had found it best to just take Erwin at his word. If he had other motives for speaking, it would be pointless to try to ferret them out. When his words were the plainest and most straightforward and pure, that was when he truly had something else up his sleeve. 

In this case, Levi had the gut feeling that his plan had already been carried out. 

 

*

 

When the noise stirred him, he was half-asleep, caught between two worlds. So he was halfway pissed when he wrenched the door open, only to see Mikasa Ackerman standing there in her sleeping clothes.

“What are you doing out here again?”

When she reacted with surprise, Levi caught his own slip of words. 

_Again_ , he saw her mouth to herself, deciding something. “That…” The cold line of her throat tightened and released. “That time. It was a one-time thing.”

A hot sensation overtook the back of his eyes. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t know what for. 

“Anyways,” she said. “I came here to ask you something.”

Levi was going to turn her down, no matter how strong she was. “Go ahead,” he said. 

“Did it hurt?”

Levi felt backed into a corner, and he didn’t know why. “Did what?”

“Falling down today. It looked like it hurt.”

Levi held down his temper, letting none of it show. “Falling always hurts. It’s what you do with pain that makes the difference.” 

“How much did it hurt?”

He just didn’t understand why she kept asking these things. It was only making him mad, but if she wanted a reaction she wouldn’t get one. He never did anything about being just plain mad these days. 

He was about to retort that she ought to go to bed, but on the glance up, he saw something surprising. 

She looked off to the side and bit her lip, and Levi saw that she was trying to hide a smile. 

He cleared his throat twice, trying to find words to express himself. “You’re goading me, aren’t you.”

“I don’t know.” 

Levi wondered if he had been goading her all this time, too. 

They stared at each other, similar dark eyes moving watchfully and in tandem, and then they stopped staring. Their bodies were blown towards each other as if forced by an adverse wind, if any wind could ever be strong enough to move either of them to any place they didn’t want to go already, now that they were grown and fierce.

It wasn’t embarrassing that he had to stand on his toes to reach her, because he could touch and hold when he did. Her mouth was on his, and his hands were in her hair. 

 

*

 

In his room now, she was over him, her legs splaying outside his. He wondered if she had experience in this, or if it simply came naturally to both of them, the ability to make their bodies do what they wanted at will. Her legs felt rougher than they looked, and it excited him to remember all the feats she could perform in the air, where she could match his pace around every sharp turn, on the cusp of exceeding him.

With their shirts off, Mikasa’s chest was nearly as flat as Levi’s, which probably had something to do with her extreme muscle tone. Levi thought it tempting, how her nipples poked out brown and insistent, rubbing against his chest. It was too hot with the blankets on the bed, so they kicked them to the foot of the bed where they bunched up. 

Mikasa rubbed her cheek with her hand, dark eyes gradually losing suspicion. 

Levi imagined Eren, with his easy eyes and young face, and how different he would be from his sister when naked and spread. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Eren, briefly.” Levi wasn’t predisposed to lying. Not in situations like these.

Mikasa swapped them, rolling onto her back, stretching her arms above her head. Her breasts lifted slightly, fetchingly, and she was flushed from the waist up. “Yeah.” Maybe he imagined the silent _me too_ reflected in her eyes. 

“You’re older than him by a few years, aren’t you.” He didn’t mean it as a litmus test, but she tensed up and hesitated before replying affirmatively, and he wondered what she meant. 

They kissed again, and he wound his fingers in her hair but didn’t pull. They’d fallen into his room, mouths crushing against each other, and he’d immediately been able to tell that neither of them was good at kissing. Levi found kissing unnecessary to begin with, something that was nice but not as good as a tongue on his throat or a hand on his ass, and Mikasa went at it too rough for his liking. But he got into it anyways, enjoying the groans she stifled into his mouth and how his cock twitched when his chapped lips began to burn from the demanding, rough pressure of her mouth. 

His hand butterflied over her throat, fingers dancing along a column wrought in fragile marble, and his mouth moved lower, ending the kiss, tongue dipping along her collarbone. He licked there, watching her skin become slick and blushing, and with the smoothest tips of his fingers, he flicked at one of her nipples. 

Her mouth was closed, but she was taking quick inhales and exhales through her nose, and muffled noises ascended through her lips.

“Open your mouth,” he requested. He was surprised by two things, first that she obeyed and then by what he saw. 

Mikasa had turned her tongue sideways in her mouth, a strange contortion of pink flesh, and she was biting down. 

“You’ll get blood in your mouth,” he said. But as soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t, because the idea of a slight taste of copper was a jolt to his groin, something he hadn’t known about himself. 

She stopped the biting. _Too bad_ , he thought. 

When he moved his mouth to her small breast and started to move his tongue, her answering moan went straight to his groin, and he inhaled and held his breath to keep from coming on the spot. “Too loud,” he said, in reality not wanting the added aural stimulation. 

Her eyes flashed, probably seeing through his lie. 

“So make me.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled so his hand was at her mouth, obviously for the purpose of muffling her, and he jolted forward to crouch over her. 

He should have expected it, but the bluntness of her teeth at his hand was a shock; his arm froze all the way up and he closed his eyes. On the back of his eyelids he saw brown hair, green eyes. He blinked and the idea melted away, and Mikasa looked back with slightly parted lips, like she was suspended in the air. 

“Fuck,” he said to himself as much as to her.

He turned his head to the side and pressed his face into her scarf. It was not as soft as he’d imagined, more like a heavy wool. She bit her lip but said nothing. He slid down her body slowly, and her hand stroked through the roots of his hair as he moved. 

He inhaled through his nose, pressing his cheek into the crease of her left thigh. Mottled by scar tissue, the roughness of her legs turned him on, and he ground his hips into the bed to put pressure on his cock. He skimmed a palm over her breast like he had earlier, but a tremor passed through her and she inched back. 

“Not there anymore?”

“No, too sensitive,” she confirmed. 

Nudging his nose into her pubic bone, he asked her with the lightest voice he could make, which wasn’t very light at all, “And here?”

“There… is fine.”

Finally he could mouth at her like he’d wanted, his imagination a poor substitute for the immediacy of her here in person. His lips weren’t overly soft, he knew, so he worked with his tongue mostly, licking along the V of the lines formed from her hipbones to the mons. She had quite a bit of hair, and he pressed down on the mons with the lightest parts of his fingers, flattening the hairs. Her abs rose and fell, but she didn’t say anything. 

He licked further down, allowing his mouth to rest and encase her clit for a precious second. He lifted his chin minisculely to speak, but before he said anything, she was urging him on, gritting out, “That’s _fine_.”

So he let the tip of his tongue trail down to her outer lips, wondering if he still knew anything about how to do this, or if he’d had a clue in the first place. He gripped her thighs with each hand, lifting them up to find a better angle. 

His tongue explored her wet curves, and he used his fingers to gently part the folds so his tongue could move deeper inside occasionally. When her hips trembled, he slowly slipped his tongue over her clit, inhaling her scent through his nose, and started into a rhythm. 

He experimented with different, tiny movements with his tongue, trying to discover what worked, what made her shudder and what she merely twitched at. 

She said, “Keep doing that,” when he stayed with a particularly repetitive stroke for a long time. He closed his eyes, focusing on how slick she felt on his tongue, smooth and wet, and his hands still grasped her thighs. 

He thought of something and lifted his mouth. “Fingers?” He felt clinical with the question, but his voice came out hotter than he’d intended, and he was surprised at his own jagged breath. 

“Not this time.” Unlike him, her speaking voice was so clear, but when he went back to licking at her she breathed in and out with a small whine. 

He felt like he was down there for ages with his tongue, feeling hot all over. 

“Do it more quickly.” Her voice still betrayed only a trace of breathiness. 

Her clit was larger than when he’d started, swollen and pink, and Levi snaked a hand down to palm himself, rutting against it and the bed while he licked her out. 

“Stop for a second,” Mikasa said. 

Levi stopped. “Yeah?”

Mikasa mussed a hand through his hair, and it sent a wave of unfamiliarity through him, that soft touch at his scalp. “You should come first,” she said. 

Levi didn’t ask why, expecting she had her good reasons, and he climbed over her, straddling her waist with his thighs. 

There was no way they were going to fuck, and they both knew it. 

“Between your legs?” Levi offered. He’d had a partner who liked to do that to him in the past. She nodded.

He was fast about taking the oil from the bedside table, and he spread a generous amount between her thighs, sparing a little for his own cock. She leaned back on her forearms with an interested gaze and ran her tongue over her top teeth. 

“I just—squeeze?” Mikasa asked. He replied affirmatively, and she put her legs together. 

His spine went liquid when he first thrust between. 

So interesting, so familiar somehow, her legs were so long and warm, it pulled at his foreskin when he pushed through the space. Where her skin was smooth it was heaven, but where the scarred patches from the gears were it was rough, and better. His hands skimmed over her breasts lightly, trying to do it the way she’d showed him earlier. He wanted to kiss her but it was impossible in their position, so instead he adjusted to grip her legs more strongly. 

Levi rarely felt an urge to take care of his sexual feelings with others, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it when it happened. He looked up to her face, but she was looking between her legs, where his dick was pressing insistently in and out. It would have been comical if he hadn’t been so into it, his hair getting into his face, his body strained. The oil had dripped onto her stomach, looking shiny and dirty, and he slid more easily with precum while the oil stayed wet, and he gasped when she squeezed her thighs tighter. 

He caught his breath and came over her stomach, moving back and forth until he was spent. His breath caught on his own spit, and he looked at the mess he’d made and then at her face, which tilted up to him as if waiting. Her flush was still confined to her chest. 

“Okay,” he said, loosening her legs, thinking fast as he did a preliminary cleanup of the mess. He wanted to make her feel like he had; it was only fair. “So what do you want me to do?”

She said she now wanted his fingers. 

He knelt, positioning himself while he slipped two fingers inside. 

The angle was uncomfortable and his wrist started cramping fast as his fingers searched for the spot inside her. But the awkwardness wasn’t enough to distract him from drinking in the sight of her open mouth, her eyes scrunched up and her wet abs clenching and unclenching, barely streaked with cum. She squeezed around his fingers as they felt out her ridges. There was a slight give as he thrust, a firmness like a new sponge. 

“Faster,” she said clearly and quietly. “Like a beat.”

The beats passed, his hand working incessantly, allowing his thumb to brush against her clit now and then. 

He lay down easily and added his tongue, remembering the movement on her clit she’d most liked earlier, rhythmic and plain. He kept his eyes open this time, and when he looked up she saw hers were closed, and her neck was stressed tight. The muscles of her arms stood out as her fists clenched on nothing, and Levi moved his fingers a beat faster, timing the motions with his mouth. 

“Ah—” Mikasa gasped, a precious unclear sound that Levi savored as he felt her contract around his fingers and jolt beneath his mouth, and his hand felt so wet inside her. Her peak was good for him, too, and he stayed with the movements until her body relaxed from the high, and she let herself fall loose on her back. 

She lay there as he did a slightly more thorough cleanup. He came back and lay down next to her. 

“I’m tired,” he said, pulling the blanket over himself. It was much earlier than the time he usually allowed himself to sleep, but he didn’t know what else to do. 

He heard her snort before he gave himself over to sleep. 

 

*

 

He came back to himself gradually. 

He blinked and realized he was in his room. Couldn’t remember his dream, but he’d definitely lived a vivid one, the patterns and colors staying at the edge of his mind. 

Mikasa’s breath fanned out over his face. He startled, having temporarily forgotten there might be another person there when he woke up. They weren’t touching, but apparently they’d settled into rest with their faces fairly close together. Maybe not like lovers, but like a pair of… something. Whatever. He would never say siblings, because he didn’t know what that was like. 

He consciously breathed in and took stock of the room. Mikasa had helpfully failed to clean a damn thing, and the window curtains were open, though he’d definitely gone to sleep with them closed. It was a passive aggressive gesture if there ever was one. 

As long as the sun was streaming in, why shouldn’t he allow the breeze to enter as well? He opened the window mechanically, but feeling an uncanny ache in his shoulders, turning to face her. 

Only her closed eyes were visible, for covering the lower half of her face was her scarf, which tended to slip down her neck in the high winds that attacked them when they practiced with the maneuver gear. Levi anticipated a dormant frown on her lips but hoped for an eventual smile, once the fabric was blown away.

Feeling like a small child, his half-asleep arm maneuvered the fringed, beaten edge of the scarf closer to his face. He caught a particular scent on an inhale, neither fragrant nor unpleasant, but it wasn’t familiar to him yet. 

He had a feeling she wasn’t asleep anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are amazing!
> 
>  [tumblr](http://kaiosea.tumblr.com/post/117834054160/jugular-rivamika-2-2)


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